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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041375">Offense and Defense</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Giving_A_Name/pseuds/Not_Giving_A_Name'>Not_Giving_A_Name</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), And there were only three beds, Depression, Eating Disorders, Football, Gen, Glimpses of Jersey Kyle, High School, Huddling For Warmth, Jack Tenorman is alive, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Princess Kenny McCormick, Protective Kyle, Stan's Gang vs Craig and Those Guys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:47:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_Giving_A_Name/pseuds/Not_Giving_A_Name</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids of South Park have done a lot of maturing since fourth grade, but a disastrous high school football game revives the petty rivalry of Stan's Gang versus Craig and Those Guys. Then a snow storm arrives, trapping them in close proximity. Will the 10 boys survive the night?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kyle Broflovski &amp; Eric Cartman &amp; Kenny McCormick &amp; Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski &amp; Eric Cartman &amp; Stan Marsh &amp; Kenny McCormick &amp; Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Stan's Gang &amp; Craig and Those Guys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Threw It On The Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After losing a high school football game, the boys just want to get home. Too bad the weather has other ideas.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you guys still naked?” Kyle yelled into the locker room. “Hurry up, it’s snowing!”</p><p>Kyle was standing with Butters on one side of the entryway to Snowy Peak High’s visiting team’s locker room. Tweek and Jimmy stood on the other. The two pairs had mostly avoided eye contact with each other, but Kyle glanced in Jimmy and Tweek’s direction to see if there would be any concessions on their side. He only received two scowls in return, Tweek’s particularly strong, so he rolled his eyes.  </p><p>The four of them had experienced the football game from the stands. Jimmy’s arms were powerful from his crutches, but he didn’t have the mobility to play most team sports. Kyle, Butters, and Tweek, like many kids in Colorado, had grown up pretending to be on the Broncos. However, by the time they reached high school, it was clear their physiques weren’t ideal for the game. Kyle and Butters were wispy beanpoles, and Tweek was soft. Jimmy preferred weightlifting, Kyle preferred basketball, and Tweek and Butters preferred no sports at all, so they didn’t mind cheering from the sidelines. They often sat together, and had done so that day until things went south.</p><p>After various other players and the coach exited the locker room, Craig, Clyde, and Token finally marched out.</p><p>“Sorry, honey,” Craig said to Tweek. “Coach wanted to talk to us.” He added this last part while shooting daggers at Kyle and Butters as if it were their fault, even though they weren’t on the team. Kyle narrowed his eyes right on back.</p><p>As Craig and his friends headed to Token’s luxe SUV in the parking lot, Stan, Cartman, and Kenny finally emerged, dressed in their post-game attire of ratty tracksuits (Kenny’s with the addition of a pink tulle skirt).</p><p>“Hey, fellas,” Butters said, rubbing his gloved knuckles together, “I hope you’re not in too much trouble.”</p><p>“It’s bullshit,” Cartman snapped, leading the way to his mom’s old minivan. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”</p><p>“And we’re not in trouble,” Stan said, zipping up his puffy blue jacket against the cold. “Coach only lectured us to make it ‘fair.’ My dad’s an embarrassing asshole, but he wasn’t wrong today.”</p><p>Randy Marsh’s embarrassing assholism for the day had been a long, screamed speech:</p><p>“What are you going to do? What are you going to do? You can’t throw them out! You can’t throw them out! You can’t throw out your best quarterback and left tackle and you fucking know it! That’s my goddamn son and Jack fucking Tenorman’s son! You throw them out it’ll be your funeral! Oh, I can’t say that? I’m sorry, I thought this was America! Do you know who I am? I’m Randy Marsh of Tegridy Farms, asshole! I thought this was America!”</p><p>He’d been asked to leave.</p><p>The parking lot was almost empty of cars, filling up with snow instead. Spectators, parents, and most of the other players had already gone. As Cartman, Stan, and Kenny threw their gear into the van, Token’s SUV drove away, Craig flipping them off from a window.</p><p>“Asshole,” growled Cartman.</p><p>“It’s not like any of us were really on our best behavior today,” Kyle admitted, hauling the passenger door open.</p><p>“Oh, come on, Kyle,” Stan said, climbing into the van behind him. “You’re going to side with Craig and those guys?”</p><p>“No, because Craig and Clyde definitely started it. Fuck them both. But what you did wasn’t great.”</p><p>“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Stan snapped. “Just let him attack Cartman? And you jumped in from the stands.”</p><p>“I know, I know,” sighed Kyle, buckling his seat belt. “But honestly, what was Clyde going to achieve by shoving Cartman anyway? He might as well have shoved a brick wall. If you hadn’t done anything, Clyde would have at most hurt himself before being thrown out. Then you and Cartman would have still been in and the Cows would have won.”</p><p>Even the van sounded angry as it roared to life, the windshield wipers irritably tossing away the snow that had accumulated.</p><p>“Maybe, maybe not,” Stan said, “with how shitty Defense was today. And don’t act like you weren’t about to clock Craig after you <em>jumped onto the field</em>.”</p><p>Kyle did have to concede that he’d gone full Jersey on Craig. He’d been up in the other boy’s face shouting, angrily gesturing, and ready to start throwing punches before Kenny pulled him away.</p><p>“What he said pissed me off and I lost my cool," Kyle admitted. "But, I didn’t ultimately hit him, and I’m not the quarterback, or even a player. You’re the captain, Stan. You’re supposed to be setting a good example.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Stan said as Cartman drove the van out of Snowy Peak High's parking lot.</p><p>“I mean, you threw Clyde to the ground!” Kyle said.</p><p>“He pushed my left tackle!” Stan shouted for the umpteenth time that day, as if he were citing a well-known, legally enshrined loophole that allowed you to forcefully introduce someone to the ground.</p><p>“Aw, Stan, we know you didn’t mean it,” Butters said from his usual place in the furthest back row by himself. “Everyone’s emotions were running high, and then Craig got all bent out of shape because of Stan passing to Aaron so much, and then Clyde said some stuff he shouldn’t of, and Eric—”</p><p>“We know, Butters, we were there!” Cartman snapped.</p><p>His throat hurt, probably from screaming at the top of his lungs, “Oh, really Clyde? YOU’RE gonna talk to ME about absent parents? YOU’RE gonna bring that up? Didn’t think that one through, didja, buddy?”</p><p>“Look, let’s stop talking about this,” said Stan. “It’s bumming me out. Can we put on some real music, please?”</p><p>“Stan,” Cartman said, “I love you, man. You’re way more of a brother to me than my actual brother. And you threw down for me today, and I appreciate that, but we are absolutely never playing your death metal in my car.”</p><p>“Aw, come on,” Stan whined. “Let’s take a vote. Who actually wants to keep listening to Lady Gaga instead of metal?”</p><p>Kenny, Kyle, Butters, and Cartman all raised their hands.</p><p>Stan dramatically slumped against his seat. “Really, Butters and Kenny? You played in Crimson Dawn with me. Traitors.”</p><p>Cartman cranked up “You and I” in response. He, Kenny, and Butters were singing about Nebraska dive bars when his phone rang in the cupholder. “Ugh,” he said after glancing at the screen. “Kenny, hit ignore.”</p><p>“Jack?” Stan asked sympathetically.  </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Despite Cartman’s exceptionally morbid childhood fantasies about killing his uninvolved father, cooking him into chili, and then feeding him to his half-brother, in reality the Tenormans had simply moved to Denver, where Jack Tenorman had gotten a job as a sports commentator on the news. Cartman had no contact with the man until middle school, when his paternity had become public in just about the worst way possible: a furious, rambling social media post from Jack Tenorman’s wife announcing their impending divorce and listing his multiple affairs, including the time he “knocked up a PORNSTAR (classy!!!) while our son was in KINDERGARTEN.” It only took a few hours for internet sleuths to figure out what the adults of South Park had banded together to hide.</p><p>After that, Cartman had sporadic phone calls and visits with his father, whose interest picked up immensely when he started football, and even more so when he wound up also playing tackle, and being very good at it.</p><p>“Every single game,” Cartman complained. “He wants me to walk through every move I made so he can critique it.”</p><p>“Should I answer it and tell him to fuck off?” Kenny asked.</p><p>“Nah, just decline it. I’ll deal later.”</p><p>Kyle looked out at the growing storm. “It’s getting bad out here. Maybe Stan should drive.”</p><p>Cartman scoffed. “You don’t think I can drive in some fucking snow?”</p><p>“No, but Stan’s been driving the longest,” Kyle pointed out. “You’ve only had your license for four months. And you’re not actually supposed to be driving people under 21 yet anyway.”</p><p>“It’s not Cartman’s fault he’s the baby of the group,” Kenny said, pinching his friend’s round cheek.</p><p>Cartman batted his hand away. “I got my permit at 15. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’m probably the best driver here.”</p><p> </p><p>Awhile later, they were trudging through the snow on the shoulder of the road, heading back in the direction they came.</p><p>“Shut up, Ginger.”</p><p>“I didn’t say anything, Secret Ginger.”</p><p>Cartman and Kyle had stopped with the “Jew” and “fatass” stuff years earlier as part of a never-discussed mutual agreement. Instead, they focused their personal insults on the next best thing: the fact that Kyle had red hair and Cartman carried the gene for red hair.</p><p>“I can hear your side-eye from here. It’s not my fault that there wasn’t a guardrail,” Cartman complained.</p><p>A bit earlier, several of their parents had called to tell them that due to the storm, highway patrol had closed a section of the road they needed to get home. Liane and the McCormicks had just made it through. The boys would need to find a place to spend the night. Because they had passed a rest stop with a motel about a half mile back, Cartman made an illegal three-point turn. Or tried to.</p><p>The minivan ended up going over the edge of the road, down an embankment, and into a snowdrift. There was no hope of retrieving it while the storm raged on. The football players gathered their gear, Kyle booked them a room at the Alpine Heights Inn on his phone, and they started walking.</p><p>“Stan, do you have your meds?” Kyle asked anxiously as they hiked through the snow, the wind whipping at their faces.</p><p>“Yeah, I always have two days’ worth in my bag.”</p><p>“This might be fun, fellas,” Butters said. “It’ll be like a slumber party.”</p><p>“Remember when our parents made us have a sleepover at Kenny’s so we’d all get chickenpox?” Cartman asked.</p><p>“No,” said Butters morosely. “I wasn’t there.”</p><p>“I remember your lame Urkel sleeping bag,” Kyle told Cartman.</p><p>“Hey, Urkel was cool!”</p><p>“That sleeping bag would probably give you major hipster cred now,” Stan said. “I wonder where my Terrance and Phillip sleeping bag is. I hope my mom didn’t get rid of it when we moved.”</p><p>“Fuck!” Kenny yelled suddenly.</p><p>He’d stepped in a deep patch of snow, and when he yanked his foot out, his boot—a hand-me-down from his brother, previously patched with duct tape—had ripped open at the sole. He held up his leg, showing his exposed sock.</p><p>“God damn it, Kenny,” sighed Cartman. “Does anyone have a plastic bag and some tape? We could put that over his boot.”</p><p>But nobody did. Kenny had his cleats from the game, but those wouldn’t keep the snow out. So he ended up riding piggyback on a 6’3” steed.</p><p>“I hate you, Kenny,” said Cartman.</p><p>“Shut up, horsie,” mocked Kenny through his orange scarf, his arms wrapped tight around his friend’s broad shoulders. “You should be proud to be the princess’s royal mount.”</p><p>“I will drop you and your tutu in the snow.”</p><p>A familiar flashy vehicle pulled up alongside them. The front passenger window rolled down to reveal Craig. It was the last group of people they wanted to see, but perhaps they would be able to get a lift to the motel.</p><p>“What are you idiots doing?” Craig asked.</p><p>“The van went off the road and got stuck,” said Cartman, “due to poor infrastructure. Honestly, I should sue.”</p><p>“Is anyone hurt?” called Token from the driver’s seat.</p><p>“No, but Kenny’s boot broke. We’re headed to the Alpine Heights Inn over there,” Kyle said, pointing to the rest stop in the distance.</p><p>“Oh,” said Craig. “We’re driving to a luxury chalet Token booked on AirBnB. Have fun, assholes.”</p><p>Craig flipped them off as the SUV pulled away, splattering the five with dirty slush.</p><p>“Screw you guys!” shouted Cartman.</p><p> </p><p>“And screw that broken elevator!” Cartman added a while later when they had finally made it to the motel, checked in, and climbed three flights of stairs to reach their room.</p><p>Kyle had booked them the largest room that had been available, which was the “Friends and Family Deluxe Room.” It consisted of two queen beds, a sleeper sofa, and a sitting area with two chairs and a small table. The carpet was old and worn, bathroom tiles were chipped, and the air smelled stale. It was definitely not a luxury chalet, but after walking through a snowstorm along the side of a highway, it felt like heaven. Stan and Kyle claimed one bed, Cartman and Kenny the other, all immediately pulling the blankets around themselves and taking out their phones.</p><p>“You have the sofa,” Cartman said when Butters tried to join them.</p><p>“Don’t be an asshole,” Kenny said. “He can sleep there tonight and warm up with us now.”</p><p>“Fine.” Cartman scooted over to make room.</p><p>“Aw, thanks, fellas,” said Butters, joining the huddle. “My nose and toes and ears are frozen stiff.”</p><p>“Ok, everyone, proof of life pic,” said Kyle.</p><p>He put his phone camera in selfie mode and snapped a pic of him and Stan with the other three in the background. After sending it to all their parents (minus Jack) and ignoring the slew of replies from their moms (“&lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3” “Thank goodness our babies are safe!!!” “Our 5 handsome boys &lt;3”) he posted it on his social media, tagging them all.</p><p><em>Didn’t make it home to South Park because of the storm, but we’re safe</em>, he wrote as a caption.</p><p>“Oh, no,” Stan said, looking at his own phone.</p><p>“What?” asked Kyle.</p><p>“Some Snowy Peak kid filmed our fight and put it online.”</p><p>Cartman, Kenny, and Butters immediately left their bed for Stan and Kyle’s, gathering around to watch.</p><p>The video was taken from the stands, so very little of the dialogue could be understood. The gist of what had happened, however, was pretty clear. At that point in the game, the Park County High Cows had been slightly ahead, despite several big missteps from their Defense. It was Offense’s turn to mess up, though, as the Cows had just lost the ball. When the recording started, wide receiver Craig had already taken off his helmet and was yelling at Stan for never passing the ball to him. Stan and Cartman were angrily refuting this. Then Clyde and Token, both Defense, had gotten off the bench and come to back up their Offense friend. There was a lot of arguing back and forth when Cartman could heard shouting something mostly unintelligible (“Oh, really Clyde? YOU’RE gonna talk to ME about absent parents? YOU’RE gonna bring that up? Didn’t think that one through, didja, buddy?”), at which point Clyde rammed himself futilely against Cartman and was promptly tossed to the turf by Stan.</p><p>“Holy shit,” the person taking the video said. “That was Jack Tenorman’s son that guy hit, and the other guy ended him. Damn.”</p><p>After that, things really went to hell. Token—usually one of the most level-headed players—began what was basically a shove fight with Stan, with Cartman and Craig immediately joining in. Kyle and Tweek could be seen as they hurried toward the field, initially seeming to try and calm everyone down. However, Craig then yelled something (“Fuck off, you fat fuck and you depressed emo loser!”) which set Kyle off, and he jumped the fence and charged up into Craig’s face, spitting fire even though the other boy probably had at least 30 pounds of muscle on him.</p><p>“Holy shit,” the videographer said again, laughing as Kenny dragged Kyle away from Craig. “these Park County hicks don’t fuck around. Is every game like this? Damn.”</p><p>The video ended there.</p><p>Stan buried his face in his hands. Just because he felt his actions were justified didn't mean he wanted them all over the internet. “Great. The fact that that’s out there for every college recruiter is just super.”</p><p>“You were defending your friend,” Kenny said. “They’ll understand. Actually, Cartman’s your defense on the field, and you were defending him, so it’s like self-defense, which is legal.”</p><p>“It’s not like college football coaches aren’t used to some tussles,” said Cartman. “If they ask you about it, you pull a Kyle and go, ‘You know, I really learned something that day…blah, blah, blah, insert trite lesson here.’”</p><p>“Besides,” Kyle added, rolling his eyes at Cartman’s imitation of him, “who’s even going to see it?”</p><p>“Oh, hamburgers!” exclaimed Butters, “there’s an edit by Nathan going around.”</p><p>Nathan’s edited clip started with Clyde shoving Cartman, then went to slow motion once Stan retaliated, at which point The Lonely Island’s song “Threw It On The Ground” began to play as the throw was replayed over and over, Clyde repeatedly smashing into the snow-dusted field to the accompaniment of Andy Samberg’s vocals.</p><p>Cartman and Kenny practically died laughing while Stan burrowed under the cheap, scratchy motel blankets in embarrassment. He just hoped it wouldn't go viral.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am still working on Five Decks, Shuffled, but wanted to start posting this too.<br/>Threw It On The Ground, in case you're unfamiliar with this CLASSIC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gAYL5H46QnQ</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Circling the Wagons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While safe from the blizzard in their motel room, the boys get an unexpected call.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shut your fucking face, uncle fucker!” sang Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. “You’re a boner-biting bastard, uncle fucker!”</p>
<p>Butters did not sing the profanity-laden song, but did dance along, beaming like he was on top of the world in his cozy spot between Kenny and Cartman. They were watching Terrance and Phillip’s <em>Asses of Fire</em> on the motel room’s TV. Stan and Cartman had braved the weather for a run to the convenience store attached to the rest stop’s gas station, and had returned with food, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and a pink trucker hat bedazzled with the word “princess,” which they hadn’t been able to pass up getting for Kenny. A meager buffet of two sleeves of mini donuts, a bag of beef jerky, a jar of peanuts, and a few underripe bananas was spread across the two beds. With the roads closed and people stranded, food had been snatched up quickly.</p>
<p>Despite their looming hunger and the rocky day, which had included a fight, a losing game, a minor car accident, and a walk through a blizzard, they were having a good evening. They were safe from the storm, and they were together.</p>
<p>Many had assumed the childhood friends would drift apart eventually, but if anything, they had become closer than ever in high school. Entering Park County High had been a shock. Several middle schools fed into it, so the boys were suddenly surrounded by kids they hadn’t grown up with. For Stan and Cartman, however, special factors made it completely disorienting.</p>
<p>Tegridy Farms had long been a thorn in Stan Marsh’s side. He hated living on the farm, and he hated his dad’s embarrassing antics surrounding the business. Besides, everyone in elementary and middle school knew that pot was boring adult stuff. Every time Randy came up with a new commercial or did a public appearance, Stan knew he could count on kids at school teasing him for it.</p>
<p>Then in the first few weeks of high school, kids who’d come from other corners of Park County started coming up to him with wide eyes. “Your family owns Tegridy Farms?” they’d ask, voices full of reverence. “Your dad is Randy Marsh? From the commercials?”</p>
<p>The news spread like wildfire. Suddenly he was swarmed by hangers-on who acted friendly and then made requests for free weed or merch. Everyone wanted to see the farm. Upperclassman invited him to parties, then strongly hinted that he would surely bring “the good stuff.” It was aggravating, killed any trust he had in strangers trying to get to know him, and his depression worsened for a while. He withdrew while his friends circled the wagons, running interference when kids came up to their group and tried to talk to him and cussing out people who quoted the commercials. Once he was on the varsity football team with Cartman and Kenny he opened up a bit, but part of him would always be guarded.</p>
<p>Cartman had a similar famous-father problem. His father’s identity becoming public had been a nightmare for him in middle school. When the internet sleuths tracked him down and posted photos, the story had somehow pivoted from “rich sports guy is a scumbag” to “wow, this former athlete’s kid is really fat!” Instead of just his friends and acquaintances making fun of his weight, seemingly the entire world was. One photo of him that had been leaked became a meme (What you expect a former NFL player’s kid to look like: [stock photo of photogenic child with football] What he actually looks like: [unflattering photo of Cartman]). He’d had to lock down his social media, and he and his mom had spent a few weeks hiding out at the Marshes’ farm while Mrs. Tenorman did the talk show circuit and “Liane Cartman” trended on PornHub.</p>
<p>When they finally got home, Cartman decided to take drastic measures about his weight. However, he was too embarrassed to admit all the fat-shaming had finally gotten to him, so he decided to do it in secret. This involved research on dubious corners of the internet, where he landed on “intermittent fasting.” There were supposedly safe ways to do this, and he started with just skipping breakfast, telling his mom he would eat it at school. But people in the forums kept talking about their days-long fasts, and soon he was skipping lunch on a regular basis as well.</p>
<p>This was trickier, because his love of school cafeteria lunches was infamous, and he always had lunch with his friends. He made excuses about having to study in the library (which strained the bounds of credulity) or working on a secret project (more believable, as everyone would just assume he had a scheme of some sort). At home, he ate less at dinner and said he’d gotten fast food after school. Sometimes he’d place old fast food bags and wrappers on the kitchen counter to better sell the lie.</p>
<p>He felt physically terrible, plagued by dizziness and headaches, but the weight started dropping and he couldn’t stop. Kyle, Kenny, Stan, and Butters finally cornered him one lunch hour in the back of the library where he was hiding, demanding to know what was going on. He attempted to storm off in a huff, but got weak from standing up too quickly and collapsed. Butters and Kenny were immediately on either side of him, worried and fussing.</p>
<p>“Cartman,” Kyle said, taking stock of Cartman’s caginess and emerging cheekbones and finally putting the pieces together, “are you…not eating?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine! I had half a serving of peas last night!” he protested, which in retrospect, he had to admit sounded unhinged.</p>
<p>Kyle had told his mom, Sheila told Liane, and he was put in treatment. When he was more stable, he worked with a nutritionist and eventually settled into being “husky,” which he was fine with.</p>
<p>Then he got a growth spurt, and by the time he entered high school, he was still big, but carrying it well. He looked like a football player, which made sense, since he was a former football player’s son. A former Bronco’s son, to be precise. And to the Colorado-born-and-raised kids at Park County High who hadn’t grown up thinking of him as the mean fat kid, that was thrilling.</p>
<p>Cartman had handled his sudden high school fame better than Stan, at least outwardly. After all, he adored adoration and was a master at leveraging it. But he was very cognizant of how differently people treated him after his weight loss, so he accepted their flattery with an indulgent smile while trusting them not one iota, preferring to stick with the people who had stuck with him—even if he’d never admit it.</p>
<p>So the five of them were content waiting out the blizzard in the cocoon of each other’s company and the dingy motel room, watching Terrance and Phillip and receiving periodic updates from friends and family who had seen the fight video and/or Nathan’s edit.</p>
<p><em>Really, Stan? Brawling on the football field? Are you in third grade again? </em> Wendy texted. She and Stan remained friends, but no longer dated. Besides Tweek and Craig, none of the childhood sweetheart relationships remained. The influx of fresh blood in middle and high school had been too tempting.</p>
<p><em>Glad I left for college before you turds got big enough to fuck people up</em>, Shelly wrote. <em>But don’t think I’ll back down from a fight when I’m home for Thanksgiving. ;)</em></p>
<p><em>Tell Cartman I’m sorry I wasn’t there to slap Clyde for him this time!</em> Ike—who had made his own edits of Kyle hopping the barrier to the field set to various musical selections—messaged his brother. <em>BTW Mom’s talking with Dad and on one hand wants to ground you but on the other is really proud of your Jersey spirit.</em></p>
<p><em>You should have joined in and unleashed Professor Chaos</em>, Dougie told Butters. <em>Those football guys wouldn’t have known what hit them. </em></p>
<p>Then Kyle’s phone rang.</p>
<p>“It’s Token,” he said, brow scrunched in confusion. “What does he want?”</p>
<p>“And why is he calling instead of texting?” Cartman asked. “Is he 50 years old?”</p>
<p>Stan hit pause on the movie and Kyle tentatively answered, putting the phone on speaker.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>“Hey, Kyle,” said Token with strained cheerfulness. “How are you guys doing?”</p>
<p>The five all looked at each other quizzically, and then Cartman and Kenny started loudly singing: “I THREW IT ON THE GROUND! YOU MUST THINK I’M A JOKE! I AIN’T GOING TO BE PART OF THIS SYSTEM!”</p>
<p>Token audibly sighed. “I see you’ve seen the video. Look, today sucked, and I’m not going to downplay that—”</p>
<p>“THE ROAD TO THE CHALET WAS SNOWED OUT AND WE’RE GOING TO FREEZE TO DEATH! ARGH!” Tweek’s panicked voice supplied, sending Cartman into fits of laughter.</p>
<p>“We’ve tried every motel in the area,” Token explained, “and they’re all booked solid with stranded truckers and skiers. So we were wondering…”</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “Now you’re going to come crawling back after you left us walking on the side of the road?”</p>
<p>“I know it’s a hard sell,” Token admitted, “but we wouldn’t be coming empty handed. I’ve got a box of mangosteen-truffle LaCroix, smoked salmon, crudités, bagels flown in from New York this morning, a wedge of French brie, and two powerful wifi hotspots. Clyde has a mostly full bag of Cheesy Poofs.”</p>
<p>Kyle tucked the phone away, and the group regarded each other, debating.</p>
<p>“Aw, come on, fellas,” said Butters. “We can’t just let them freeze to death. That’s not very nice.”</p>
<p>“They can build a fire,” Cartman said. “Re-enact that Jack London story.”</p>
<p>“We could use the food,” Kenny pointed out, “even though I don’t know half of what he listed.”</p>
<p>“I dunno, there’s the vending machine downstairs,” Stan countered. “I think it still has some Famous Amos and Lifesavers.”</p>
<p>“Can we just take their smoked salmon for the protein, crudités for the fiber, and then kick them out?” asked Cartman.</p>
<p>“I booked the room, so it’s my call,” Kyle said. Taking the phone back out, he said, “Ok, you guys can stay in our room on several conditions. First, yes, bring all the stuff you just mentioned. Second, you guys can sleep on the sofa bed and floor. Who gets what is up to you. Third, we get first dibs on all bathroom and TV usage. Fourth—where are you guys now?”</p>
<p>“The lobby.”</p>
<p>“Ok, I’ll come down and discuss some code of conduct issues with you. See you soon,” Kyle said, hanging up.</p>
<p>“You’re going to go down in this weather?” Stan asked. “Want me to come with you?”</p>
<p>Kyle shook his head. “I’m going alone. You guys stay here.”</p>
<p>“Why?” Cartman demanded.</p>
<p>“Because.”</p>
<p>“Because why, Ginger? You cutting some kind of deal with them?”</p>
<p>“No, like I said, I’m going to discuss a code of conduct with them,” Kyle said, pulling on his boots. “And that’s for us, too. Nobody is to start shit tonight, ok? Especially you, Secret Ginger.”</p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>“I’m serious. No talk about Clyde’s mom.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t talk about his mom, I <em>alluded</em> to his mom, and only after he started with the ‘you’re just trying to win your absent dad’s approval’ shit.”</p>
<p>Kyle silently shot him his Extremely Serious Glare and Cartman silently and begrudgingly acquiesced. </p>
<p>Kyle bundled up again and headed outside. Even under the overhang, snow was piling up. Still, he was glad for the covered walkway as he made his way to the staircase.</p>
<p>By the time he reached the motel lobby, his face was numb. The receptionist was explaining to someone on the phone that yes, they were fully booked, and several dejected groups stood in clusters, discussing what to do about the blizzard. Craig’s exhausted, irritated gang was huddled near the rack of skiing, sight-seeing, and out-of-season ziplining brochures.</p>
<p>“Kyle,” Jimmy said as the redhead marched over, “our very best friend.”</p>
<p>“Cut the crap,” Kyle said. “If you guys are going to come up, there are going to be some rules. You are going to behave yourselves, all of you. Especially you, Craig.”</p>
<p>“Me?” Craig snapped as much as he could in his flat voice. “How am I the one who wasn’t behaving today? You know perfectly well—”</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Kyle said. “I’ll talk to the guys too, to make sure there’s no more stupidity about your stupid football game, but I swear, if any one of you says a goddamn thing about Cartman’s weight or Stan’s depression, I will end you.” He let his hazel eyes burn into theirs, refusing to blink. “You understand? I am not joking, I will fucking destroy you. Either of those two things are mentioned, by any of you, and I will toss Tweek outside to freeze to death and I will make Craig watch. I will hold his face up to the window until Tweek has taken his last frigid breath. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>The five stood in shocked silence for several seconds, Craig gripping a terrified Tweek to him protectively.</p>
<p>“Ye-ye-yeah, Kyle. We understand,” Jimmy said.</p>
<p>“Good,” Kyle said. “I’ll go tell the guys. Get your stuff. We’re in room 410. By the way, the elevator’s broken. Do you want me to send Cartman down to help you, Jimmy?” he asked.</p>
<p>“No, we’ve got it,” Clyde said quickly.</p>
<p>“All right. See you soon.” Kyle spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby without looking back. Sometimes, having been conceived in New Jersey had its uses.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Big Men on Campus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's confrontation in Room 410 and some truths come out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Yuck,” said Token as his group entered Room 410. “This looks like a drug den from a Netflix series.”</p>
<p>“Wow. Sorry it’s not the Ritz, Mr. Black,” said Cartman. He was lounging on the bed closest to the door with Butters and Kenny, eating the last of the beef jerky while <em>Asses of Fire</em> continued to play.</p>
<p>“Yeah, if you don’t like it, you can always camp in your car,” said Kenny, who was rocking his new “Princess” hat and for whom the motel <em>was</em> basically the Ritz.</p>
<p>“At least we’re inside,” said Jimmy as Clyde lowered him off of his back.</p>
<p>Craig set down the cooler of food on the small table, then straightened up, stretching his back and dusting snow off his shoulders. He reluctantly scanned the room, which was full of people he had fought with just a few hours previously.</p>
<p>“That your Aryan harem?” he asked Cartman, nodding at the blonds flanking him.</p>
<p>“Craig!” Tweek squeaked, terrified of actually being tossed out to freeze in the storm.</p>
<p>Fortunately, Cartman was unimpressed with Craig’s jibe. “Your boyfriend’s blond, dude. You offering him up?”</p>
<p>He got a middle finger in response.</p>
<p>“Join us, Tweek,” Kenny said, draping himself over Cartman and Butters. “Join the harem of the Grand Wizard. We have Taco Tuesdays.”</p>
<p>Tweek didn’t respond to Kenny’s joking, and there were a few moments of tense silence while the arriving group settled on the couch and chairs to take off their boots.</p>
<p>“Oh, thank God,” Tweek said suddenly. “My thermos is almost empty.”</p>
<p>Everyone followed his gaze to a small counter near the TV, which had a coffee pot and an assortment of cheap grounds, teas, and sweeteners.</p>
<p>“That’s our coffee. It’ll cost you extra,” Cartman said.</p>
<p>Tweek’s amount of visible panic rose dramatically.</p>
<p>“Cartman!” Kyle snapped. He looked at Tweek sympathetically. “It’s all yours, Tweek. None of us even drink coffee.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Tweek simpered.</p>
<p>“I need to pee. Is that allowed?” Clyde asked.</p>
<p>Kyle sighed. He had probably gone overboard with the warnings. “Of course.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” said Clyde icily. “I wouldn’t want to get our quarterback king riled up again.”</p>
<p>Stan rolled his eyes. “Clyde…”</p>
<p>But Clyde ignored him, stomping off to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.</p>
<p>“Oh, hamburgers,” Butters lamented.</p>
<p>“He has no reason to be upset,” Stan said. “He’s the one who made it physical.”</p>
<p>“He was seriously asking for it,” Cartman agreed.</p>
<p>Kyle insisted that they not talk about the football game, but was ignored.</p>
<p>“Come on, Stan. You know you took it too far,” said Token. “He’s humiliated. Especially now with the video. He’s already beating himself up because he hasn’t been the star athlete he wanted to be, and you made it a thousand times worse.”</p>
<p>“And you could have really hurt him,” Craig said.</p>
<p>“I was careful,” Stan argued back.</p>
<p>“None of this would have even started if you hadn’t been such a whiny bitch, Craig,” said Cartman. “You were the one pitching a hissy fit because you think you’re God’s gift to football.”</p>
<p>“I think I’m God’s gift to football? <em>I</em> think that? That’s rich, coming from you two.”</p>
<p>The air in the room was tenser than ever, and even uncomfortably warm, despite the blizzard outside. Jimmy, who was sitting on the couch, silently turned down the nearby heater. Butters rubbed his knuckles together anxiously while leaning against Cartman, and Tweek huddled behind Craig, nervously sipping the last of the coffee from his thermos.</p>
<p>The toilet flushed, and Clyde shortly reappeared. “I could hear all of that, by the way,” he said, looking at Token.</p>
<p>“Look,” said Stan, “how about this? If it would make you feel better, Clyde, you can knock me down, right here.”</p>
<p>He held his arms out to the side, ready to be pushed to the motel floor.</p>
<p>“Stan!” Kenny said, “we can’t risk you getting injured. Our other quarterbacks suck.”</p>
<p>“See, that’s what we mean!” Clyde shouted. “You and Cartman are treated like fucking football royalty. Coach favors you like crazy, and the rest of the school worships you because of your famous dads!”</p>
<p>“Whoa,” Stan said, holding up his hands. “It’s not like that.”</p>
<p>“It is like that,” Craig said. “Token, Clyde, and me have to sit next game out, but you and Cartman don’t? Yeah, you’re good players, but that’s still unfair.”</p>
<p>“And it’s not just this one time,” Token said. “Cartman, how many extensions have you gotten on math homework that no one else has? Stan, same for you in History. And how much extra attention do the two of you get during practice? When everyone was worried Stan might have torn his ACL last season, Coach called in personal favors to get him seen by that special sports clinic in Denver, and it turned out he was fine, anyway. But when Jason <em>actually</em> tore his ACL? Nada.”</p>
<p>Stan glanced at his friends. Everything Token was saying was true, and when listed all together, it did sound sort of bad. But Cartman, as usual, wasn’t willing to give up the fight.</p>
<p>“Wow, Token, I’m really sorry. Sorry you’re so jealous of us for being good at football.”</p>
<p>Tweek shocked everyone by screaming in frustration.</p>
<p>“ARGH! THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT! It’s not enough that you’re getting all this adulation—and don’t think you three don’t get the benefits as well,” he said, pointing to Kyle, Kenny, and Butters. “Kenny puts almost no effort into football, spends half his time on the field staring at the cheerleaders, but gets to play all the time while others stay on the bench. Kyle’s getting no repercussions for storming the field today and we all know it. And when was the last time someone made fun of Butters? Never! He’s untouchable! BUTTERS! But like I was saying, it’s not enough that you’re all getting treated like Park County VIPs, you’re also this snobby little closed clique. It’s like you think you’re too good for everyone. Everyone fucking loves you now, because of your football skills and who your fathers are, and you’re up in your ivory tower.”</p>
<p>Stan practically jumped off the bed. Tweek was uncowed, but Clyde automatically stepped back behind Craig and Token. Kyle grabbed the hem of Stan’s shirt as a restraint, just in case.</p>
<p>“Is that what you think is happening?” Stan exclaimed. “You think I’m just lapping up all the attention I get from being Randy Marsh’s son? It sucks! It sucks not knowing who actually wants to be my friend and who just wants free weed or a dumb ass Tegridy Farms t-shirt. I hate it. And Cartman has the same fucking problem. So yeah, we tend to stick around the people we trust, the people we know for sure don't care about our dads.”</p>
<p>“It’s true,” Cartman said. “You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know the people hitting me up for Broncos tickets or signed footballs are just variations of all the people who suddenly treated me better after I starved myself in middle school?”</p>
<p>Craig and his friends did a double take, while Butters and Kenny subtly scooched closer to their friend.  </p>
<p>“What?” Clyde said, staring at Cartman with wide eyes. “In middle school, when you lost all that weight? You said you had stomach problems.”</p>
<p>Cartman shrugged. “Well, now you know.”</p>
<p>A heaviness fell over the room, with no one quite sure of where to look until Jimmy, still sitting on the couch, spoke up.</p>
<p>“W-w-well, everyone—”</p>
<p>“Jimmy, don’t you dare joke about this,” warned Kyle, his hands on Stan's shoulders.</p>
<p>“I’m not, I promise. B-but as a natural mediator, let me re-state what I’m hearing. Group 1 is fed up with the favoritism shown to Group 2, and also feels Group 2 has been exclusionary. Group 2 has been oblivious to both the favoritism and how they are perceived, and Group 1 has been misguided on the reasons Group 2 has been exclusive.”</p>
<p>Everyone thought on that for a few moments.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s fair,” said Stan.</p>
<p>“Agreed,” said Token.</p>
<p>“So, what now?” asked Stan. “Do…do you want me and Cartman to ask Coach to have us sit out next game?”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Cartman snapped.</p>
<p>Craig, Clyde, and Token looked at each other.</p>
<p>“Not really,” Token admitted. “Then everyone will resent us for you guys being out. And the fact is, we will totally lose without you.”</p>
<p>Stan nodded. "Craig, I'll try to pass to you more, ok? And we'll all try to be more aware of the favoritism and call it out. So...Clyde, do you want to push me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After some discussion, everyone agreed to not risk injuring priceless quarterback Stan Marsh by throwing him onto the motel’s thin, stained blue carpet, so instead, Clyde pushed him onto one of the beds. It ended up looking kind of fun, and soon multiple pushers and pushees were involved, cameras rolling. Then they discovered Cartman could really get some air tossing the lighter boys from a bridal carry, so Butters, Kyle, and Jimmy all got to experience the exhilaration of flying onto the squeaky mattresses, which was when a call finally came in from the front desk asking them to quiet down.</p>
<p>After that, they began getting settled. Tweek made his first pot of cheap coffee, Token set up the wifi hotspots, and others raided the new food.</p>
<p>“He’s either going to be super jealous, or he’ll have some sort of New Yorker conniption fit over the fillings not being cream cheese and lox, so it’s a win either way,” Kyle said as he snapped selfies of himself and Cartman eating New York bagel sandwiches with brie and smoked salmon to send to his cousin Kyle.</p>
<p>“Tell him it’s ‘Colorado style,’ an improvement,” said Cartman.  </p>
<p>Meanwhile, Jimmy was using Token’s improved wifi to edit an improved version of Nathan’s “Threw It On the Ground” video, featuring footage of their bed-throwing party. He had just gotten it posted when the power died.</p>
<p>Everyone paused for a moment as the room went dark. Night had fallen, so no light came in through the frost-covered window. Then there was an electronic stutter, and power returned.</p>
<p>“Must be the generator,” said Kenny.</p>
<p>“I hope it lasts the night,” said Butters. “Could get awfully chilly, otherwise.”</p>
<p>“We’d just have to huddle together for warmth,” Kenny said. “That could be sexy.”</p>
<p>Cartman tossed a peanut at Kenny’s head. “Kenny, please don’t jinx us.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Seth Rogen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A broken generator leads to a game of musical beds.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“People sleep like this?” Token exclaimed.</p>
<p>He and Clyde had unfolded the sofa bed, a process accompanied by squeaks and clanks as the old metal frame got in position. Token was lying on the mattress, trying it out.</p>
<p>“There’s a huge bar in my back,” he added. “This can’t be right.”</p>
<p>“That’s sofa beds for you,” said Clyde. "Not everyone has a dozen guest rooms for visitors." </p>
<p>“Honestly, camping is more comfortable.”</p>
<p>“Sleep on the floor, then,” said Craig.</p>
<p>It was late, and the residents of Room 410 were getting ready for bed. Fitting ten teenage boys—six of whom were football players—into three beds was no easy task. Stan and Kyle decided Jimmy could share with them. Cartman, Kenny, and Butters were in the other. That left Craig and Tweek, Clyde and Token. Now they had to decide which pair would get the sofa bed, and who would sleep on the floor. The floor “beds” would consist of towels for mattresses, jackets for pillows, and an extra blanket that had been in the closet.</p>
<p>Token looked at the sad towel pile and then at Clyde. “Maybe we should flip for it.”</p>
<p>A coin was produced, and Clyde and Token called heads and were named the winners. They chose the lumpy sofa bed.</p>
<p>“Oh, God,” said Tweek, staring at the floor. “What if rats eat our eyes?”</p>
<p>“Tweek, seriously. It’s not Kenny’s house,” said Cartman.</p>
<p>Kenny chucked a pillow at his head.</p>
<p>Despite the cramped quarters, getting ready for bed was more or less a happy chaos, reminiscent of childhood sleepovers. Stan’s gang packed the bathroom as they brushed their teeth, making Craig’s group jealous with Stan’s foresight in getting toothbrushes and toothpaste at the convenience store. Token, at least, had a bottle of mouthwash, which he passed around to his group.</p>
<p>“Did you take your meds?” Kyle whispered to Stan.</p>
<p>Stan nodded, having quickly swallowed them after brushing his teeth.</p>
<p>No one had pajamas, but the athletes fared a little better in that they had sweats or tracksuits. The spectators—Jimmy, Tweek, Kyle, and Butters—were all in jeans, which were not ideal for sleeping.</p>
<p>“At least I wore boxers today,” said Kyle, stripping off his pants while Cartman and Kenny sang the “there’s some whores in this house” refrain from “WAP.”</p>
<p>“Same,” said Jimmy, revealing his own boxers, which had “sex god” printed on the front and back.</p>
<p>“You had better not spoon me,” Cartman said to Butters, who was unembarrassed in his tighty-whiteys.</p>
<p>Cell service had gone out, but Token’s wifi hotspots were still going strong, and the boys fell into scrolling through their phones in the dark after they had all settled down for the night. Outside, the storm continued to rage.</p>
<p>Stan reviewed a DM. “Cartman, wanna take the Smith twins to Winter Formal with me?” he asked, sounding less than enthusiastic. “Isabella with me and Arabella with you?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” the taller boy replied, not looking up.</p>
<p>“Wow, try not to sound too excited about taking hot twins to the dance,” Clyde commented sarcastically from the sofa bed, which ran parallel to Cartman, Kenny, and Butters’ bed. “You guys must really be ‘drowning in bitches’ now if that sounds boring.”</p>
<p>“Traitors,” Kenny accused Cartman and Stan. “You should be holding out for quadruplets so me and Kyle can get in on that. I mean, quintuplets,” he added, glancing guiltily at Butters.</p>
<p>Cartman scoffed. “Like you ever have a problem getting a date. And Butters is saving himself for a Canadian.”</p>
<p>Butters sighed. “Stupid Garrison made it impossible for those of us with maple fever. Anyone with a Canadian passport is never coming south of the border again.”</p>
<p>“You need to do it the other way, Butters,” said Jimmy. “Be a ma-mail order groom. Get that universal healthcare. My own plan for when I’m eventually kicked off my parents’ insurance is to do a stand-up show in Toronto and meet some ba-banging chick.”</p>
<p>Butters looked like he was actually considering it. Given the Garrison presidency, he’d be stupid not to.</p>
<p>“Personally, there’s only one woman who could truly have my heart,” Cartman announced.</p>
<p>Stan groaned.</p>
<p>“Shelly Marsh,” Cartman continued.</p>
<p>“She’s not interested, dude,” said Stan, pinching the bridge of his nose.</p>
<p>“Of course she’s going to say that now,” said Cartman. “She doesn’t want to go to jail. But the moment I turn 18, watch out! Brand new brother-in-law, coming your way. By the time she’s done with school, she’ll be an orthodontist, and I’ll be her pro-football player trophy husband.”</p>
<p>“Come on, dude, Shelly terrorized us when we were kids,” said Kyle. “I’m not comfortable with her being Seth’s stepmom.”</p>
<p>Clyde glanced over at them. “Seth?”</p>
<p>“Seth Rogen. We decided he’s Kyle and Cartman’s son,” Kenny explained. “Anyway, it would be weird if you married Shelly. She’s Stan’s sister.”</p>
<p>“You think it would be weird for Cartman to marry Stan’s sister but not for the four of you to date quadruplets?” asked Token. “I think you all dating a literal clone of the same person would be way weirder than you just winding up with each other’s siblings.”</p>
<p>“Dibs on not marrying Scott Tenorman,” Kyle announced.</p>
<p>Cartman snorted in approval. He had contact with his father, but the bad feelings between him and his half-brother were worse than ever. Scott, it turned out, had inherited little of their father’s athletic ability, and resented Jack’s fawning over Cartman’s emergence as a high school football star.</p>
<p>From the floor near the foot of the sofa bed, Craig gave a put-upon sigh. “Look, it’s going to be hard enough for me and Tweek to fall asleep on the floor, so can you all please be quiet?”</p>
<p>Craig and Tweek were cuddled together in their makeshift bed. Craig laid on his back, and Tweek laid on his side, using his boyfriend’s chest as a pillow.</p>
<p>“Sorry, we’ll settle down,” Stan said.</p>
<p>“Somebody’s got sand in their vagina,” Cartman stage-whispered, but he did put his phone on sleep mode, leaning over Kenny to place it on the bedside table.</p>
<p>Others did the same, and soon the room was in near-total darkness, the only light the illuminated digital clock numbers, the red dot from the smoke detector, and a blue glow from the television controls. The only sounds were the hum of the heater, the squeaks from the sofa bed as Token and Clyde tried in vain to get comfortable, and the wind outside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Butters woke up, the first thing he noticed was the cold. Even though he was pushed up against Cartman, his bare legs were freezing, and his feet were cold even through his socks. He tucked his toes under Eric’s calf, not wanting to have to get out from under the blankets and turn up the heater, but it soon became inevitable. He sat up and tried to orient himself. The room was pitch black. Then he realized how quiet it was. There was no sound coming from the heater at all.</p>
<p>He heard someone moving around low in the darkness, then Tweek whispered, “Craig? It’s so cold.”</p>
<p>“Tweek,” Butters whispered, “I think the generator’s out.”</p>
<p>That made Tweek scream, and everyone woke up.</p>
<p>“The fuck, Tweek?” Cartman asked sleepily. “Get your man in order, Craig.”</p>
<p>It was too dark for Craig’s middle finger to be seen, and anyway, he would have been out of sight on the floor.</p>
<p>Butters forced himself out of bed and felt his way around the sofa bed to the wall heater. It was clearly futile, but he desperately fiddled with the dial. Kyle turned on his phone’s flashlight and aimed it across the room in an attempt to help.</p>
<p>“Fellas, it’s out. There’s no power,” Butters said, panic rising in his voice.</p>
<p>“Shit,” said Stan. “Just our room, or like, the whole motel?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Butters said, trying to squint through the frosty window. He wiped at the pane. “I don’t see any lights out there.”</p>
<p>“Can someone get me my pants?” Jimmy asked.</p>
<p>More phone flashlights lit up as those who had taken off their jeans hurried to put them back on. It was a little after 2am.</p>
<p>“We’re going to die!” Tweek cried as Craig gathered more things—duffel bags, other people’s jackets—to pile on top of their blanket. “We’ll freeze to death in here!”</p>
<p>“We are not going to die,” Craig said, shoving his own blue hat on Tweek’s head. “We’re inside. We’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>“Ah! The coffee! I won’t be able to make coffee!” Tweek added.</p>
<p>“You can cold brew it,” Craig assured him.</p>
<p>“Do you two want to join us up here?” Kenny asked.</p>
<p>“There’s no room,” Cartman whined.</p>
<p>It was true. The fact that neither Kenny nor Butters had fallen out of bed yet was pure luck. If Cartman twitched in his sleep, it was likely one or both of them would go flying.</p>
<p>“They can lie on our feet,” Kenny suggested. “Then our feet would be warm, too.”</p>
<p>“We’re not going to lie on your gross feet,” Craig said. “But we should move farther from the window.”</p>
<p>He and Tweek gathered their armfuls of stuff and moved it to the space in between the two queen beds. Token and Clyde, whose sofa bed was closest to the window, layered up, putting on their jackets and hats.</p>
<p>“No homo, bro,” said Clyde as they climbed back under the blankets and scooted close together.</p>
<p>Butters hopped up and down to keep warm as he struggled with his jeans, which were half inside-out. He let out a sigh of relief when he got them on, his legs finally protected from the chilly air.</p>
<p>“Butters, you can go in the middle, since you have no meat on your scrawny bones,” Cartman offered in a rare show of generosity, pulling back the covers.</p>
<p>“Aw, thanks, Eric!” Butter chirped. He climbed back into the bed and traded places with Cartman, nestling into the indentation the other had left. “Ooh, Eric’s spot is all warm and cozy.”</p>
<p>Kenny smiled and threw an arm over his friend, partially to help keep himself from falling off the edge of the bed, and partially because it was nice to give back to Butters. Leopold Stotch wasn’t as naive and gullible as he had been as a child, but he still fell naturally into supporting roles, bringing the other boys Gatorade and ice after practice while gushing about their football skills. He deserved to be the one doted on for once.</p>
<p>“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m really jealous of Butters’s position as the filling in a Kenny/Cartman sandwich right now,” said Clyde.</p>
<p>“You should have joined the Grand Wizard’s harem,” Kenny mocked. "For real, though: polyamory would be awesome on cold nights like this." </p>
<p>Kyle, who was in the middle spot in the other queen bed, felt self-conscious. No way could he let Eric Theodore Cartman appear more thoughtful than him.</p>
<p>“Jimmy, do you want to switch places?” he asked half-heartedly.</p>
<p>“Kyle, even if my legs were fully functioning, I would rather lose them to frostbite than sleep in between you and Stan.”</p>
<p>Having done his due diligence, Kyle turned towards Stan’s back, pulling the blankets up over his ears. He hoped that when he woke next, it would be to a warm room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Craig. Craig.”</p>
<p>Craig awoke with a sigh at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “What is it, honey?”</p>
<p>“I’m so cold.”</p>
<p>Craig stifled a groan. He could tell Tweek was on the edge of tears, and truly, he understood. It was freezing on the room’s hard floor. The two of them were huddled as close as they could with clothes on, but their shared body heat was no match for the blizzard outside. At least if they were in a cabin, they could have a fire going.</p>
<p>“It’s ok, honey,” he said, sitting up.</p>
<p>Tweek burrowed in his lap as Craig grabbed his phone and turned his flashlight on, surveying the room. Where could they sleep? The Kenny/Butters/Cartman bed could be ruled out, he was grateful to confirm. With two football players—one of whom already looked like he could be an NFL lineman—the bed had literally no room left. The Stan/Kyle/Jimmy bed was a more likely prospect, given that both Kyle and Jimmy were skinny. Then there were Clyde and Token, but the sofa bed was smaller than the others.</p>
<p>“I think we’re going to have to split up,” he told Tweek. “You crawl in with Jimmy, and I’ll go join Clyde and Token.”</p>
<p>Tweek remained huddled in a ball on Craig’s lap. Craig reached out and nudged Jimmy’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“Jimmy. Hey, Jim. Scoot over.”</p>
<p>“What is it?” the comedian asked groggily. “Jesus, it’s colder than a Senate Republican’s heart in here.”</p>
<p>“Tweek’s going to join you,” said Craig. “Make room for him.”</p>
<p>“What’s going on?” asked Token from across the room.</p>
<p>“We’re too cold on the floor,” Craig said. “Tweek’s going to sleep with Jimmy and I’ll sleep with you.”</p>
<p>“At least buy us dinner first,” Jimmy muttered.</p>
<p>"Shut up, you guys," Cartman whined, half-asleep.</p>
<p>“Don’t you want to stay together?” Token asked, ignoring Cartman. </p>
<p>“Yeah, but our first priority is not to freeze,” Craig said.</p>
<p>“Here,” Token said, getting up. “I’ll sleep with Jimmy. You guys can take my spot.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Token,” Tweek sniffled.</p>
<p>“Oh, so now I’m going to be the third wheel?” Clyde asked.</p>
<p>“You did want to be the filling in a Cartman/Kenny sandwich,” Token reminded him.</p>
<p>“Relax,” said Craig, pulling Tweek to his feet. “It’s not like we’re going to have sex next to you. And you’re getting an extra blanket.”</p>
<p>“Fine, but I get the spot furthest from the window,” Clyde said, moving accordingly.</p>
<p>Tweek and Craig squeezed in next to Clyde, laying their blanket on top of the one already there. Craig put himself between his boyfriend and the window.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Craig,” Tweek murmured, tucking his face under his boyfriend’s chin and wrapping his arms around him.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Token had woken up Stan and Kyle and was urging them to scoot over as much as possible.</p>
<p>“I don’t think this is going to work,” Jimmy said.</p>
<p>“It will if we all spoon each other,” said Token.</p>
<p>“God damn it,” Kyle muttered, blushing in the dark as he pressed up more closely against Stan than he ever had before and feeling Jimmy do the same to him.</p>
<p>“If you feel anything, just pretend it’s my crutch,” said Jimmy.</p>
<p>“You don’t have your crutches in bed,” said Kyle.</p>
<p>“That’s why I said ‘pretend.’”</p>
<p>“It’s only for one night,” Token said, spreading the towels over the foot of the bed for extra warmth. “And it’s for survival.”</p>
<p>“Let’s just get this over with,” said Stan. “What time is it, anyway?”</p>
<p>Token checked his phone. It was a 3:30. If they didn’t get power back soon, it was going to be a long night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Boots and Donuts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Morning has broken...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Craig woke up to the feeling of sweat rolling down his back. He sleepily pushed off his covers, and it took a moment to process what was happening: the heater was on. He sat up and turned to the heater, which hummed steadily. Light was now dimly visible around the edges of the curtains, but it wasn’t enough to see the heater’s settings by. He grabbed his phone from the couch’s arm and turned on the flashlight, then lowered the temperature. Butters had inadvertently set it to the maximum setting during his fiddling.  </p>
<p>Craig stripped off his jacket and sat back down on the sofa bed. It had been a long night. Token had fallen out of bed twice. Cartman had only fallen once, but had crashed into the sofa bed’s metal frame while doing so, waking up the whole room, probably their neighbors, and possibly the dead.</p>
<p>As Craig’s eyes adjusted to the low light, he could make out the forms of Tweek and Clyde in the bed beside him. In the warm air, Tweek had pulled away from him and ended up closer to Clyde. Craig smirked, almost tempted to try taking a photo to tease them with. Deciding he wasn’t cruel enough to use his camera’s flash so early the morning, he got up to pee.</p>
<p>Even though he got back into bed as quietly as possible, Tweek stirred. The blond reached out for Clyde first, making Craig snicker. Realizing his mistake, Tweek rolled over to the correct boy, smiling tiredly.</p>
<p>“Go back to sleep,” Craig whispered to his boyfriend.</p>
<p>“What time is it?” Tweek groggily asked.</p>
<p>“Almost six. The power’s back on.”</p>
<p>Tweek’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to make coffee while I can.”</p>
<p>Craig knew it was no use to try to convince Tweek it was unlikely they’d lose power again, so he got up with his boyfriend, settling in one of the chairs while Tweek quietly made coffee in the darkness. Craig yawned and stretched, wincing at aggravated muscles.</p>
<p>“Sore from the game?” Tweek whispered.</p>
<p>Craig shook his head. “I barely played. I think it’s just from the awful sofa bed. Or maybe from our time sleeping on the floor.”</p>
<p>Usually, Tweek gave Craig a back and shoulder rub after game days and tough practices, but the routine had been disrupted by the eventful evening. While the coffee brewed, he moved behind Craig’s chair and started kneading his shoulders.</p>
<p>“Mm, thank you, honey.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for keeping me warm last night,” Tweek replied, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend’s mussed black hair. With the heater working and the familiar scent of coffee starting to fill the air, Tweek was just about as relaxed as he got.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kyle woke up around eight to find he had drooled all over Stan’s shoulder. Embarrassed, he sat up, wiping his mouth.</p>
<p>“If you’re hoping nobody saw that, you’re wrong, and I t-t-totally took a photo.”</p>
<p>Jimmy was sitting up on the other side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. Kyle groaned and rubbed his eyes. Even though the curtain was closed, the bright morning sun gave the room some illumination. In the next bed, Kenny, Butters, and Cartman were still huddled up together, although Cartman had kicked most of the blanket off of himself. Token had rejoined Clyde on the sofa bed, and Tweek and Craig, perhaps wanting privacy, had remade their floor bed and were wrapped up like a burrito. The air smelled of coffee, so Tweek had clearly been at work before going back to sleep.</p>
<p>“Can you pass me my phone?” Kyle whispered.</p>
<p>Jimmy handed it to him, and Kyle noted he had multiple messages from his mom, and from the group chat with all their parents, who had heard about the power outage and were anxious to hear about their kids’ wellbeing. The most recent update was that Sheila and Randy were both making calls to get the road snowplowed as soon as possible. Kyle internally groaned on behalf of himself and Stan. Their loud, reactive parents yelling at government officials was not their favorite thing.</p>
<p><em>We’re fine. Power went out for a bit but it’s back now</em>, Kyle dutifully reported.</p>
<p>Then he opened his socials out of habit.</p>
<p>“You asshole,” he told Jimmy.</p>
<p>Jimmy had indeed posted the photo of him drooling on Stan, as well as a photo of Kenny, Butters, and Cartman piled together. The captions were “true love” and “Butters straight up pimpin’,” respectively.</p>
<p>“What? It’s cute,” Jimmy teased. “And it’s not like there’s much else to do. I also took a photo of Craig and Tweek, but I feel like I could sell it. Can you make an OnlyFans for other people?”</p>
<p>Kyle crawled out of bed to use the bathroom. He looked awful after the long night, with bags under his eyes and his red Jewfro looking more untamed than usual. He didn’t have a comb on him. After peeing, he grabbed the last bagel half from the food supply and chewed it in bed before drifting back to sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“BOYS! BOYS! BOYS, ARE YOU IN THERE?”</p>
<p>The familiar frantic shouting was accompanied by banging on the door. All ten boys had eventually fallen back asleep after their cold, oft-interrupted night, and the noise was a rude awakening.</p>
<p>Token groaned and rolled over. “Stan, it’s your dad.”</p>
<p>Stan just moaned and tried to go back to sleep, so Kyle poked him.</p>
<p>“Stan, your dad is here,” he told his friend.</p>
<p>“Kyle, answer the door,” whined Cartman.</p>
<p>“Why should I have to? You’re closer.”</p>
<p>“He’s practically your father-in-law, Ginger. And you know I’m lazy.”</p>
<p>“Fuck off, Secret Ginger. If you can spend an afternoon running up and down a football field, you can answer the door.”</p>
<p>“But I don’t wanna.”</p>
<p>“I hate you guys,” muttered Craig from the floor. </p>
<p>Then a softer voice called out. “Poopsiekins? Are you all right?”</p>
<p>Cartman gasped, jumped out of bed, bolted to the door, and yanked it open, revealing Randy and Liane standing against a blue sky. Cartman dwarfed Liane now, but he was no less a mama’s boy, and practically threw himself into her embrace.</p>
<p>“Mom!” he cried, as if they had been separated for weeks and not well under twenty-four hours.</p>
<p>“Eric, are you all right? You weren’t answering my texts.”</p>
<p>“We’ve been asleep. We hardly slept all night.” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “It was so cold.”</p>
<p>“You poor boys,” she cooed.</p>
<p>Randy smiled at his son’s teammate. “Hey, Eric. Mr. McCormick’s supervising the tow truck pulling your minivan out of the ditch. It should be out soon.”</p>
<p>“Oh, good,” said Cartman. “Can we have them send the bill to the state? For the lack of a guardrail?”</p>
<p>The two adults stepped inside, regarding the sprawl of teenage boys across the room, several of them blushing at seeing Ms. Cartman when they were in bed. Jimmy pulled a blanket over his lap like it was a Paralympic sport.</p>
<p>“Looks like it was a hell of a party,” Randy joked. “Hey, Stan.”</p>
<p>Stan grunted a greeting, still half-asleep and perpetually embarrassed by his father. Undeterred, Randy walked over to his side of the bed and sat down, patting his son’s leg through the blanket.</p>
<p>“Boys,” Randy said, addressing the room. “I want to say something. I know yesterday’s game was a tough one, and, well, I got a bit carried away.”</p>
<p>“You said you would get us arrested for ‘attacking’ your son, who you called ‘the greatest quarterback in the history of Colorado high school football’ and ‘worth more than the rest of us altogether,’” Craig reported flatly.</p>
<p>Stan shoved his head under his pillow.</p>
<p>“Er, right,” Randy admitted. “Like I said, I got carried away, and I apologize. I’m glad you guys made up, though! Nothing like a natural disaster to bring everyone together, huh? Anyway, it’s noon, so time to get up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While Randy drove Liane back to the site of the family van, the boys got ready. Stan’s group brushed their teeth, and Token’s took more swigs of mouthwash. Tweek downed the rest of the pot of coffee he’d made, and they all enjoyed the box of donuts Cartman’s mom had brought.</p>
<p>While devouring his donut, Kenny also stomped around the room modeling his new snow boots. They were green with a multi-colored floral pattern, and Randy said he had bought them for himself but they had come in the wrong size. Kenny was pretty sure that was a lie, and that the boots had been purchased on the drive over, but he was too enthralled by them to be embarrassed by the charity. “Us gender-nonconformists gotta stick together,” Randy had said.</p>
<p>“They look great on you, Kenny,” Butters said.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I got new boots and a new hat out of this,” Kenny said. “Maybe next snowstorm, I’ll end up with an outfit for Winter Formal.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of which, Stan and Eric, you owe me big time,” Jimmy said. “The Smith twins are going crazy over the photos I posted of you cuddling with your br-br-bros. And all the other girls are crazy jealous they're going with you to the dance."</p>
<p>“Chicks love that stuff,” Craig confirmed, speaking from experience.</p>
<p>A loud honk came from the parking lot. Stan peered out the window. There was his dad in the Tegridy-branded SUV, Cartman’s mom in their rescued minivan, and Kenny’s dad in his pickup.</p>
<p>“Our parents are ready,” he said to his friends. “Let’s go check out.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, you guys, for letting us spend the night,” Token said, grabbing his own SUV keys. “Don’t know what we would have done without you.”</p>
<p>“No problem,” said Kyle. “It’s not like we were going to let you freeze to death.”</p>
<p>“And we’re sorry, again, about…everything,” Stan added, nudging Cartman.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Cartman agreed tepidly.</p>
<p>“Sorry I hit you,” Clyde said.</p>
<p>Cartman shrugged. “It’s ok. You were more at-risk of hurting yourself.”</p>
<p>“So, we’re good?” Tweek asked.</p>
<p>“We’re good,” Kenny affirmed.</p>
<p>With that, the ten boys headed out to finally complete their journey home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for everyone who has commented and/or left kudos on this cozy, fluffy fic! Green floral snow boots in honor of the latest South Park: Phone Destroyer card, nonbinary Mary Jane Randy (Randy in Poison Ivy cosplay).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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